


Forging Alliance

by WhoGeek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental insults, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Misunderstandings, Off-screen Animal Death, Pre-Cora Hale/Lydia Martin, Probably not but I Don't Care, Talia is a good mom, future installments will have A/B/O elements, is this how royal courts work?, my world my rules, stiles is Proving a Point to some people with certain actions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoGeek/pseuds/WhoGeek
Summary: The Wolves of Welgarn are looking to create an alliance with Stalmirk. Derek is there to meet with the Crown Prince and see if he would be willing to be betrothed to the man as part of the new treaty.Things do not go well at first.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 155
Collections: Sterek Reverse Quickie 2020





	Forging Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my artist [Blizgori](https://blizsquees.tumblr.com/) for the amazing art which inspired this universe. I did have some panic after real life tried to derail things but I'm pretty pleased with where I ended up!
> 
> I'll be editing this later to add a link to the art because I'm currently too tired to figure out why it keeps ending up HUGE.

Derek grits his teeth as the introductions seem to drag on and on. He envies Cora her place further back in the Welgarn delegation, not expected to make nice with the royalty of Stalmirk for the sake of their mother’s attempt to broker peace between their nations. Many of the human nobles of Stalmirk stink of fear and displeasure.

King Stilinski rises and gives a respectable bow to Talia, as he would any visiting human monarch, and Derek’s estimation of the man ticks up a little more. None of the three on the dais smell of fear and meet the glowing eyes of the Welgarn wolves without a flinch.

“Queen-Alpha Hale, welcome to Stalmirk. I look forward to forging an alliance between our nations, and the prosperity that such may bring to both our people.”

“Thank you, King Stilinski. I look forward to it as well.”

“A suite has been prepared for you and I have matters to attend to before tonight's welcome feast. Please take the time to settle in, or spend time visiting the gardens. These are some of the servants,” half a dozen men and women in Stalmirk livery step forward and bow deeply, smelling of nervousness but not fear, “who will show you around and attend you during your stay.”

Stilinski returns to his throne as the servants gesture for the Welgarn delegation to follow them from the hall. The servants lead them to a hallway and indicate several side rooms for the honor guards and a suite of rooms for the royal family.

The set of rooms they are led to are nice, as befitting a visiting royal. Derek thinks for a moment of the tiny, cramped rooms they were _allowed_ to stay in when they were attempting to create a treaty with Saderin. As small a detail as it is the fact that King Stilinski respects them enough to provide them with proper rooms makes Derek relax some more. With a nod Derek sends his betas to sweep the rooms, checking for anything magical or dangerous.

The servants step quickly out of the way with some surprised noises as the wolves move past them and out into the hall to check the side rooms. “We will leave you to settle in. If you have need of anything one of us will be posted at the end of the hall. Your Majesties.” The servants bow and retreat from the rooms.

Cora immediately pounces on Derek. “So, what do you think of the prince? Cute?” Derek gave a hum, unwilling to let Cora know that yes, he did think the crown prince was quite cute. But he couldn’t deny that there had been an initial spark of attraction there.

“He may be as inane and boring as most human nobles are.”

“But at least he’s easy on the eyes.” Derek tries to ignore the way his ears heat with a blush. Cora cackles but thankfully drops the topic. "I believe I'm going to go see these gardens."

"Take Isaac with you." Cora rolls her eyes but he can hear her call the beta to accompany her as she leaves.

"Derek." Talia steps over from where she's been setting up her writing desk while he children bicker, reaching up to cup his face. "If you find him entirely unpleasant an engagement isn't necessary for this treaty. King Stilinski has given no indication that he requires such."

"I know, but it would make ties between our kingdoms much easier."

Talia grips his head and shakes him a bit. "Only if you truly want it. Now go get settled. Boyd and Erica are in position outside the door and I have some letters to send." She pulls him in to scent him and then pushes him gently in the direction of a room.

⁂

The welcome feast is an extravagant affair, the nobles of Stalmirk using the excuse to show off their finery. Derek has caught several disdainful glances aimed at the Welgarn royals, seated at the main table with the Stalmirk royal family. The two rulers are seated next to each other, a clear display to anyone in Stalmirk that the King welcomes them as family.

Derek isn’t sure yet how he feels about his seat next to the Crown Prince. He practically vibrates with energy through the formalities of the start of the feast.

He does manage to wait until the food has been served and the troupe of musicians has begun to play before he turns that energy towards Derek. “Prince Derek, I’m glad to have a chance to speak with you.”

“Oh? And why would you specifically want to talk with me?”

“Well, since a betrothal may be part of the treaty negotiations it would make sense to actually talk with the man who might be my consort one day. We should get to know each other.”

Derek freezes. He didn’t expect the Crown Prince to talk about a potential betrothal, or the political nature of such. He doesn’t get a chance to recover or say anything in response. “And since a betrothal is possible you should know that I prefer the name Stiles from those close to me.” Derek glances over to see a grin that clearly doesn’t reach his eyes. His eyes flick out towards the nobles. “In fact I would very much like if the Queen-Alpha and Princess Cora also addressed me as such.”

Derek takes a sip of wine, considering the clear indication that this is also a political ploy, apparently to spite the nobles. “I would be honored, Prince Stiles.”

Stiles’ grin turns truly delighted. “Wonderful. Since we are now clearly friends, I have a great many questions I would like to ask you!” Stiles immediately launches into a series of questions about Welgarn, and Derek struggles to answer as best he can without revealing more than necessary to a royal from another nation.

It’s clear that Stiles is intensely curious, listening intently even as Derek stumbles over explanations of Welgarn’s flora and fauna, town hierarchies, and magical training practices.

“I do want to know, how far can you shift?” Derek’s blood runs cold and his stomach drops. “Is there a limit to how far a werewolf can shift? Is it possible to become an actual wolf?” Derek barely hears the words. Glass crunches in his hand and Prince Stiles sucks in a startled breath. “Prince Derek! Your hand!”

The crystal goblet of wine is shattered in his grip, a few shards embedded in his palm. He can smell his mother’s shock and Cora’s confusion. Engaged as they were in their own dinner conversations they likely didn’t hear what Prince Sti… no, Prince Mieczysław asked of him. “My apologies. I misjudged my grip.”

A servant steps forward to sweep away the broken goblet, replacing it with a new one before backing away. The feast resumes around him but Derek can’t bring himself to continue eating or conversing with the Crown Prince.

The shattered goblet and Derek’s sudden refusal to respond to any questions leaves their end of the table in awkward silence. The Prince smells of confusion and misery now and it mixes with Derek’s rage and leaves a sour taste in the back of Derek’s mouth. By the end of the feast Prince Mieczysław goes through the motions of bidding the visiting royalty a good evening automatically. Derek feels a twinge of regret at the dichotomy between the miserable scent and the pleasant smile before he turns and stalks back to their rooms.

⁂

Things do not get better after that. The treaty negotiations are going well but Prince Stiles, because he still insisted on their use of his more familiar name, always darts out of the room at every break in discussions.

Derek glowers anytime the Prince and Princess pass him in the halls. Prince Stiles’ mask firmly in place but reeking of confusion and misery and a growing frustration. Meals are just as full of awkward silence as the feast ended with, although the delighted chatter between Cora and Princess Lydia also means she is less likely to allow Derek to pull her into completely unnecessary conversations any time Prince Stiles appears.

It takes two days before Talia wakes Derek up before sunrise to go hunting with her.

“We’re visitors here, wouldn’t this be an insult to King Stilinski?”

“I already cleared it with him. And he alerted his guards that we might be returning with whatever we hunt for the kitchens. No more stalling. Up.”

Derek dresses and follows his mother outside the castle, towards a forest that stretches off to the east of the city. They walk in silence for a while before she stops and turns, eyes glowing red.

“Please, my child, explain to me why you have been avoiding Prince Stiles since the night of the feast?”

“He asked about my shift.”

Talia bristles for a moment before subsiding. “Derek, what did Stalmirk do with magical folk up until King Stilinski inherited the throne?”

“Imprisoned them, or banished them, or killed them.”

“How many magical folk have you seen since we entered Stalmirk’s borders?”

“Maybe a dozen. And only the King’s druid advisor within the castle.”

“How could someone who grew up in a Kingdom like this know what would be insulting about asking for information about a person?”

Derek wants to kick himself. Of course he wouldn’t know if he’d never been around magical folk before. Talia’s hand ruffling through his hair breaks through his thoughts. “Come on, pup. Sulking about it won’t make it any better. Bet I can catch a bigger buck than you.” She turns and takes off into the woods, shifting a little for an extra burst of speed.

Instinct takes over and Derek matches his Alpha’s shift, taking off after her. “I’m not a pup anymore, mom!”

The only answer is a whoop of delight and a burst of laughter from ahead.

When they return to the castle with a pair of nearly identical bucks Derek feels both better and worse. Prince Stiles had shown clear interest in everything about Welgarn and Derek had taken one misstep born of not knowing any better and assumed the worst.

Talia is radiating smug satisfaction and contentment as they wait for the butcher and her assistant to come and relieve them of their burdens. The absolute delight on her face when she sees them is worth the early morning and the impromptu lesson.

After handing over the bucks and retuning to their rooms with a couple trays of food Derek heaves a sigh. "I'm going to find Prince Stiles."

Talia leans in to press a kiss to Derek's forehead. "Good. I expect you to stop scotowling through the treaty discussions after this."

Derek nods and heads for the pair of servants stationed at the end of the hall. They snap to their feet and bow. "Where might I find Prince Stiles?"

"At this hour his Majesty is usually in tutoring with the druid Deaton, but he was called away for a few days."

"Your Majesty might find him in the stables." Derek turns to the second servant. "His Majesty sometimes goes they're when he has a moment to do so."

"Thank you." Derek nods and the servants bow as he turns and heads towards the stables.

Sure enough, Derek can hear Prince Stiles as he approaches the stables, complaining at length to someone.

The scene before Derek as he steps into the stables brings him to a halt. Prince Stiles is sitting on a stack of hay, a ball of golden magic swirling as he tosses it between his hands and into the air. The other person in the stable is a man who seems to be the same age as the Prince, tending to a mare with a scratch on her side and Derek can instantly smell the other werewolf. "... still don't even know what I did wrong! We were getting along fine! And all of a sudden he's Prince of Silence and Glaring." The other werewolf hums in a distracted way, clearly not listening.

"You could apologize anyways."

"With him staring at me like he's contemplating disemboweling me? No thanks. And he's always with his sister, which is making Lydia mad at me too because she's been wanting to try and get some time alone with Princess Cora."

Derek clears his throat and both men jump. Stiles throws his ball of magic into the ceiling, where it bursts into a shower of colorful sparks. The werewolf shifts and leaps back from the horse, who simply snorts in annoyance.

"A little advance warning, Scott?" Prince Stiles collects himself admirably quickly, throwing an exasperated look at Scott.

"I was a little focused on my job, Stiles!" Scott shifts back and steps back to the horse, stroking her nose.

"You're a terrible werewolf." Both men stick their tongues out at each other before seeming to recall that Derek is standing there. "Prince Derek," Scott's eyes go wide and he turns to bow at Derek. "What brings you here?"

Derek glances back and forth between the two friends before focusing on Prince Stiles. "Your best friend is a werewolf and you still insulted me by asking about my shift?"

Stiles flails and Scott simply looks confused. "What do you mean, insulted you? How is that an insult?"

Derek grits his teeth. "Your best friend is a werewolf. Ask him."

For the first time Prince Stiles turns that cold expression on Derek. He's only seen it aimed at the more bigoted nobles of Stalmirk before now. "Scott was bitten by a rogue Alpha who was then hunted for sport by my father's predecessor. Everything we know about werewolves we had to figure out on our own. I apologize for the insult, Prince Derek." Stiles demeanor shifts again, going suddenly nervous and uncertain. "This isn't going to jeopardize the treaty, is it? I didn't like, insult you and your entire bloodline or something?"

Derek shakes his head, a little bit stunned. "No, a werewolf's shift is intensely personal. It's a manifestation of our connections to our pack and our selves and the magic which flows through us. All werewolves can beta shift, anything beyond that is reserved for family or the closest friends. Asking is a personal insult."

"I still apologize. I didn't know that it was such a personal question."

Derek sighs, shoulders slumping. "I apologize as well. I should have considered you had no way of knowing the personal nature of such a question. Especially considering Stalmirk isn't known for allowing magical folk to live peacefully."

"Not yet. Shall we try this again? Start over and put our mistakes behind us?" Stiles grins and Derek feels his stomach flip.

"I think I would like that."

"I'd like you both out of my stables." Scott is finished with treating the mare's injury and he mutters as he leads her back to her stall.

"Aww, Scotty, don't be like that!" Stiles cajoles, grinning even as he walks towards Derek.

"I will bodily throw you out, Stiles!" Scott steps out of the stall and turns to look pleadingly at Derek. "I'm begging you, your Majesty, he's been moping at me for two days. Take him somewhere else!"

Derek can't help but laugh. "I haven't had a chance to visit the gardens, would you be willing to show me around, Prince Stiles?"

Stiles beams and Derek's stomach flips yet again as the Crown Prince offers his arm. "It would be my pleasure."

Perhaps he can suggest they add a clause to the treaty to allow for a courtship period with the possibility of a betrothal at the end. Derek smiles as Prince Stiles leads him to the gardens.

**Author's Note:**

> I do have Plans for some possible future installments in this, so hopefully these muses will stick around long enough for me to actually write those!


End file.
